


Sticky fingers

by nieseryjna



Category: White Collar
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-27
Updated: 2011-12-27
Packaged: 2017-10-28 06:53:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/304981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nieseryjna/pseuds/nieseryjna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a normal morning in Burke household</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sticky fingers

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks for beta-reading to mam711 (IOU! ;))
> 
> Minor spoilers for Episode 1 Season 3

  
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The sweet and rich chocolate taste dissolved on his tongue; teeth crunched the cookie, giving him immense pleasure. He took another piece out of the small packet, ready for his last sweet moment. He quickly disposed of the package, not leaving any trail or proof. Without switching on the light, he slowly crept upstairs, cursing silently when one of the steps creaked loudly. He stopped, listening if anyone else was awake, his breath coming in short gasps and his heart beating loudly. After a minute he moved again, this time getting upstairs without another sound; he sneaked into bed and a moment later was asleep.

The morning came too fast for the worn-out agent; the team had worked through the evening, late into night, finishing a case of theft from a jewelry store on 5th Avenue. They finally caught up with the team of thieves on another robbery and got them during the act. Peter was glad that at least this time Neal's involvement was limited to advice as to where most probably they would hit again, and he was a hundred percent right.

He wasn't sure what to think about Neal lately; the con man was avoiding him recently, spending his free time with Sara or Mozzie, conning his way out of invitations for dinner with him and El. He was sure he was plotting something again, but even with the "truce" their relationship had changed for the worse. He hoped that Neal would wake up soon and understand that he had something good going on here, with the FBI, with Sara, with Peter and El.

"Peter!" His morning musings were disrupted by El's call from the kitchen, and she didn't sound happy. He moaned into the pillow and quickly went over the list of things he could have done wrong—like not picking up the dry cleaning again—and sipped his coffee. The call from downstairs repeated, and with an innocence face (learned from a sneaky con man), he finally went to face his wife.

"Peter!" She looked at him with reproach, a violet tin in her hand. "What happened to my fingers?"

Peter eyed the tin warily; there were things you are not supposed to do in marriage, and eating your wife's favorite chocolate snack was a big no-no. He knew, and he knew a way out.

"Honey, what are you talking about?" He was almost sure there were at least two more packages in the tin last time he checked. He could still remember the feeling of foil on his fingers when he took his last one; there must have been more.

"My chocolate fingers, there are none left! How many times did I ask you to not eat the last package?"

The ire was full-on; there was no running away from it, so the best choice was redirection. "It was Neal!" He quickly blamed his favorite to-blame person.

She looked at him with doubt, and repeated slowly, "Neal ate my chocolate fingers?"

"Of course, he is a thief and you know he can't resist taking anything that's been put in a armored truck." He was in deep trouble now.

"It's a tin, Peter, a tin armored truck; I'm sure a sophisticated thief like Neal can resist that temptation." Uh-oh, he should remember when talking to his wife that she knew him better than anyone, himself included, and could spot a lie in the straightforward FBI agent a mile away.

Saved by the bell, or rather a phone ringing; Peter hurried to the table and answered his cell. "Neal…." But before he could utter another word the phone was hastily removed from his fingers.

"Neal, did you steal my chocolate fingers?" El didn't have time for pleasantries.

"Good morning to you too, El. How can I help you on this fine morning?" Neal, ever the con man, was buying himself time. What the hell was she talking about?

"Neal..." Her tone was sharp. "Did. You. Steal. My. Chocolate Fingers?"

"Uhm, you mean the ones in the armored truck tin that stands in your kitchen window?" His quick mind went over all possibilities about how this call could end. He had a strong hunch Peter ate all the sweets and now he would owe him one, big time.

"Yes!"

"Well, yes, the last time you told me to take a package, I think it was the last one. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you…." He wasn't a con for nothing.

"Oh, don't worry, sweetie, but you should have told me it was the last one. I just accused Peter of eating them all…." El was again sweet and charming; he often thought that if he'd met her before Peter had, she would have made a great con woman.

Peter rolled his eyes; of course Neal would make everything go his way. Now he needed to buy El a new package. For a moment he felt guilty for blaming Neal, when he knew very well he ate them all, but, hey, he deserved it.

The phone was thrust into his hand again, and he made his way upstairs to not let El hear the rest of their conversation.

"Thanks, Neal, I owe you one; what did you want?"

"You're welcome; next time don't eat them all. Just called to tell you I'll be a little bit late today.…"

"What are you planning?" Peter quickly grew suspicious.

"Do I have to remind you I just saved you from the doghouse? No need to be so suspicious; I just want to meet Sara for breakfast and not have to hurry, that's all."

Peter sighed; he did owe Neal one. "Okay, but remember to keep inside your radius, and I have a favor to ask."

"Another one?" Neal laughed.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh away. Can you get me a big package of Cadbury's Mini Fingers; you know the one El keeps in the tin."

"Sure I can; US or European ones?"

"Uhm, which one are better?"

"Personally I prefer the European ones—the chocolate is more delicate—and I think El prefers them too. I know where to get them, but that's going to cost you another IOU."

"I'll owe you one, another one, if you get them, but I restrict the IOUs to strictly legal stuff, nothing illegal or gray area, understood?"

"Sure, see you soon, Peter."

He dropped the phone on the nightstand when he felt El hugging him from behind. He turned and allowed her to pull him into a hug, and kissed his cheek. "You know, you could just admit that you ate them." She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed a chocolate smudge he missed.

"El, I…."

"Shhh, just make sure Neal buys the European ones; I'm sure he knows where to get them." She smiled widely and kissed him slowly.

He looked at her with awe. "So you blamed me, knowing perfectly well that I would blame Neal, just to get the good stuff?"

"Of course, honey, I have to use Neal's vast contacts for my own purposes." She smiled wickedly.

"But you could just ask him to buy them for you."

"And where would be fun in that?" She pushed him out of the door in the direction of bathroom.

"I married not only the smartest but also the sneakiest woman on earth," he murmured to himself.

"And don't you forget it, hon!" she called behind him.

 **The End**


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